Now I know Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
but now i know that rose trees never grow
in New York city
Until youve seen this thrashcan dream come true
and stand on the edge while people run you through
Now thank the Lord there are people out there like
I thank the lord
there are people out there like youWhile Mona Lisas and Val Halas, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say goodbye
For at last they see the sky but they cannot that is why
They know not if its dark outside or the light